Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Today, for reasons I not care mention, I found myself at IKEA. There I tried to exercise the type of efficiency that the Swiss military might dream about. Approaching the building from behind, I stealthily parked in the bunker below ground, mere feet from the entrance elevator. After surgically removing the items I needed, I made good time choosing a quick moving express lane cash register. On my leaving, I had planned (down to the penny, Sir!) to make a purchase of great import.

Partridgeberry Jam - mistakenly named Lingonberry Jam by the Swedish dolts who purvey the fine stuff. You see, IKEA is the only place I know of, in Toronto, as a reliable place to get something approximating Partridgeberry Jam.

ALAS - I was thwarted! They no longer stock Lingonberry Jam, and I would have to settle for Lingonberry Sauce. Lingonsylt? Sounds like something found at the bottom of a murky lake. Ohhh yee Swedes! Thieves of Hockey Gold (do you think I forget Lillehammer, Forsberg?!) and now thieves of beloved preserves.

So there it is... my thin red connection to Newfoundland, made possible by a Swedish furniture chain has just gotten thinner, and notably runnier. When will this madness end?

UPDATE:Thankfully - Winter is OVER in Toronto - at least today. We've really only been in the deep freeze for 6-8 weeks and already the locals had become restless. It's a balmy, gorgeously sunny day in the Big Smoke and I took the opportunity to go for a wee splash about in the local pool. Refreshed - I see every problem has a solution, every challenge, an opportunity and yes, even Lingonbery Sauce might well do as Partridgeberry Jam!